


I Hate Mondays

by cheweybaclava



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Business, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Lesbian AU, Slow Build, awkward Brooke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheweybaclava/pseuds/cheweybaclava
Summary: Brooke is a successful business woman, who just can't seem to get her life together. When the new finance manager makes her heart beat right out of her chest, she doesn't know how she's going to cope.But Vanessa keeps on trying to worm her way into Brooke's crazy life.And Brooke is okay with that.





	I Hate Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all. Thought I'd do a wee Brooke/Vanjie business women thing... cause that shits cute.

Today is not Brooke’s day. 

At all. 

 

She opens the door of the lounge that leads to her office, her heels click clacking down the corridor, small puddles trailing behind her. Brooke can feel her hair dripping with water, droplets rolling down her neck and onto her shirt. What should be a slick, blonde, straight bob, is now a collection of frizzy rat tails, clumped together with sweat, rainwater, and possibly pigeon shit. She passes the large, solar windows that line the office walls, catching a glimpse of her reflection. Brooke winces at her smudged mascara, ripped blazer, broken briefcase, and the bird’s nest gathering on her head. 

 

She strides towards her office. Brooke’s assistant, Plastique, hasn’t looked up from her desk yet, typing away. She must sense Brooke approaching, because she wordlessly holds up a styrofoam Starbucks cup, without taking her gaze of the computer screen. 

“Did you sleep in this morning, Miss Lynn?” she asks, a smile forming on her face. It falls right off when she looks up at Brooke, a small gasp escaping her. 

“Do not,” Brooke says, pushing open the door to her room, “Get me started.”

She briskly walks in, dumping her bag on the Italian leather sofa. 

“What happened?” Plastique  

Brooke sighs, heading to her desk. 

“They’re doing 24 hour maintenance work on my apartment complex, which meant I got absolutely no sleep last night. The lift is out of order, leaving me to walk down two dozen flights of stairs. I fall. My car broke down half way here, and I very cleverly left my phone at home so I basically sprinted a mile here. I fell on 34th street, _again,_ and then it started to rain. Of course I didn’t bring an umbrella. I have an appointment with Mrs Visage at 10 o’clock, and I look like I’ve just come out of a poorly funded rehabilitation centre,” Brooke slumps down on her desk chair, “And I saw my ex coming out of the subway with another girl,” 

She buries her head into her hands and groans. It’s just not going well for her. Brooke is a well established, Research and Development manager of a trading company in Manhattan. She has a good reputation, makes a more than comfortable six figure salary. She has a great circle of friends, good relationship with her coworkers and her boss. She looks good, dresses nicely. Knows how to keep people in line. 

On the outside, one would be sure that Brooke Lynn was a woman who had her life together. But in reality, Brooke was a big mess. 

 

“I’m sure it won’t last Miss Lynn,” Plastique says, handing over a set of letters, “She probably just wants someone as eye candy, to spread the word and get you jealous. You can’t let her get to you,”

Brooke sighs again, nodding. 

“And I’ve also pushed your appointment with Mrs Visage back an hour, so you have some time to regroup if you need to. Apparently she wants to talk figures and stats, considering it’s the start of the new financial year,” Plastique continues, “I’ll book you in with Raja in half an hour, so you look like you got a full nights sleep,” she finishes, giving Brooke a small wink. 

“Remind me to add you to my will Plastique,” Brooke says tiredly. 

Plastique giggles, making her way out the office. 

“Anytime Miss Lynn, anytime,”

She walks out, her grey ponytail swinging behind her. Brooke shakes her head, and smiles. Plastique is the best assistant Brooke has ever had, slightly meek and under spoken at certain points, but devoted to her job, with a great work ethic. She’s a good kid too, always smiling, very polite. She may be young, but a grafter. And if she sometimes called Brooke “Mom” after a tiring day, well, no one had to know. 

 

“I’ve had it!” Brooke jolts upright, and sees Detox sauntering, arms in the air, “Officially!” 

Plastique pokes her head round the door, “Detox is here to see you,” 

“Thanks Plastique,” 

She bobs her head and vanishes back. Detox turns to shut the door, handbag swinging from the crook of her arm, not faltering in her stride. Despite wearing 5 inch heels.

“Girl, wait till you hear what about I did-,” Detox stops in her tracks when she sees Brooke, mouth hanging open, “Whoa, what the fuck happened to you?” 

“I hate Mondays?” Brooke tries. 

“I’ll bet you do,” Detox perches on the edge of Brooke’s desk, “You look like shit,” 

“I feel like shit,” 

“What’s up,” she hooks a finger under Brooke’s chin, “Life getting you down?”

“Just been a rough week,” Brooke mumbles, shuffling through the papers on her desk. Rough month more like. Rough year? Brooke can’t honestly remember the last time she got a break. 

“Well sis, smile through the pain. That’s what the weekends are for, drinking away your feelings,” Detox smiles widely, “The week days, however, are days to be upbeat and energetic about work! Especially this week,” 

Detox leans down and opens up the bag hanging off her shoulder. A second later she produces a suspiciously large file entitled “Enterprise Eleven”, and chucks it onto Brooke’s desk. It lands with a thud. It looks heavy. 

“It looks heavy,” Brooke murmurs, flicking through the pages aimlessly.

“It sure is! And you have the pleasure of sifting though each and every document with our new finance manager,” 

Brooke looks up from the book. “ _New_ finance manager? You mean it’s not Yvie any more?” 

“No, Yvie got transferred to the office down in Connecticut. There’s a new girl starting up here,” 

Brooke groans again. Fucking fantastic. There were a very select number of people that Brooke was okay working with. Yvie was one of them. A straight talking, no nonsense woman, who had a clear view and didn’t muck around. 

“If they send some bimbo with pink calculator and a pen in her bun, I’m quitting,” 

“Ooft, sexist much,” 

Brooke rolls her eyes at Detox, “You know what I mean,” 

“No,” Detox pulls a biro out of the knot placed neatly on her head, “I don’t,” 

“Okay, point taken,”

“But this girl is good, I’m telling you. I heard Ru asked for her specifically,” Detox leans in close, and whispers, “Apparently she sent the numbers skyrocketing at Santino’s firm. They landed big money. _Quickly._ Ru heard about it, and did everything he could to bring her over,” 

Brooke stares at Detox, contemplating whether or not she’s kidding. Ru Andre Charles is the CEO of Drag Trading and Co. Brooke has met him only a few times, but knows not to fuck around near him. She once heard he fired someone because they forgot the words during a presentation. This new girl must be something special if Ru likes her so much. 

Which is why Brooke isn’t buying it.

“Bullshit,” she says, smirking. She sees Detox’s eyes glint. 

“No! I’m serious,” 

“No, you’re a liar who likes to pull my leg and make me look like an idiot in front of people,” Brooke laughs, poking Detox in the chest. 

“This is for real, though,” Detox insists, “You’ll meet her today, see for yourself then,”

Brooke raises a quizzical eyebrow, “She’s coming today?” 

“Yeah, she’ll be stationed in the office next to yours,” 

Brooke won’t apologise for the fact that she jumped right out of her seat. 

“She’ll be working in this building!?” Brooke exclaims, “ _Next to me!?”_

Detox chuckles, hopping off Brooke’s desk and dusting her skirt. 

“Yeah girl,” 

This time, Brooke groans aloud, and flops her head on the back of her chair. While she may be a good manager, Brooke was still not the most enthusiastic of a peoples person. She preferred her space, working alone on projects. There were four offices on this floor; two that conjoined, which were very conveniently placed on the opposite end of the lounge, Brooke’s, and the one next to Brooke. The latter office had been empty for years. 

Probably because no one was particularly keen on working right next to Brooke Lynn. 

“This is officially the worst day I have _ever_ had,” Brooke all but wails, “And it’s only ten o’clock,”

“Well then it’s time to chin up chicki. We’re meeting Michelle soon and you don’t want to look like crackhead for that,” Detox says, making her way for the door. 

_The irony_

“Oh and one more thing,” Detox looks over her shoulder, a small smirk appearing on her face, “Scarlet told me that new girl, is _cute_. Like, yummy yummy Spanish tortilla snack. Maybe it’s time to get some again?” 

And with that, she leaves, the door shutting swiftly behind her. 

Brooke sighs, a big puff of breath exhaling, before she rubs her forehead. Maybe she could talk to Michelle about getting transferred to Canada? Or Ghana. Because too much was going on in Brooke’s life. Too much was changing and going all topsy turvy. She didn’t need a new face and a new voice and a new work strategy to manage. 

 

“Raja is here to see you,” Plastique’s voice breaks through her thoughts, “She says she’s ready to beautify you,”

“Send her in,” Brooke says, waving a hand, “We can open the whisky,” 

 

***

 

Two hours later, Brooke is guiding Michelle and Detox out of her office. She’s tired, but still trying to look interested in the banter going on between the two. 

“Keep up the good work Brooke,” Michelle says, “There’s a reason you’re my favourite manager,” 

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” Detox links an arm around Michelle’s. 

“Sorry I’ll rephrase. There’s a reason that you’re my favourite manager and Detox is my least favourite manager,” 

Detox barks a laugh and the two leave. Brooke smiles weakly as they walk out. 

Then her smile drops. 

 

Detox was right. Michelle confirmed practically everything she said. New girl is a real workhorse, who Ru is head over heels for. And Brooke will be working with her very closely. 

 

“Fucking perfect,” Brooke mutters, turning to face her desk, “Just perfect,” 

Brooke doesn’t want to work with anyone new. Brooke doesn’t want to work with anyone, _full stop_. She’s had enough of putting in the time and effort, maintaining and developing relationships, only for them to be shit and full of lies. For people to let her down time and time again. 

Brooke sits on her desk chair, spinning around slowly, her head buzzing with thoughts. 

 

_Tap tap tap._

Brooklyn looks up, and sees Plastique hovering in her doorway. 

“The new finance manager is here,” she says. 

“Okay great,” Brooke claps her hands together, “Do send her through,” 

Plastique leaves, and Brooke rolls her eyes, turning away. She is sure that this will be hours of agonising awkwardness. New girl will probably be annoying, overly eager, trying to speak over Brooke at every chance. Or she’ll be a sullen, shy, miserable woman, as many accountants were. Dull and drab. Or she’d be some strange concoction of- 

 

“Miss Lynn?” a voice asks. 

_This should be good._

“Yes, lovely to meet-,” Brooke spins around in her chair, “You…” 

She trails off at the last word. Standing a few feet away from her is a short, smartly dressed woman, with big eyes, long hair and large red grin. Brooke blinks several times. 

She stops breathing for a bit. 

Her brains glitches a few times. 

Her heart stutters in beats. 

She blinks some more. 

“Nice to meet you too,” the woman replies, smiling widely. Her voice is raspy, but not harsh. There’s a certain huskiness to it, and Brooke guesses she talks a lot. She walks over, and Brooke struggles not to stare at her legs. Long, tanned, smooth. A tight leather skirt covers her thighs, but her calves are on full view. They look strong, sturdy. Brooke’s eyes travel upwards slightly, and rest on the woman’s torso. A white shirt stretched across her chest, a black blazer over it. Her hands are covered in rings, finished with a set of pointy red manicured nails. Said fingers play with the buttons on her blouse, and Brooke thirstily ponders what sits under it. She finally looks up at the woman’s face again. 

She’s still smiling, but this time there’s an extent of mirth in her eyes, a slightly purse in her lips. Her makeup is stunning, and Brooke can’t help but gaze in awe. Ruby lips that wonderfully compliment her caramel skin. Dark, enticing eyes, framed by lengthy lashes. Her hair falls, in what Brooke can only describe to be, a waterfall of waves. Long, straight, swishing slightly whenever her head turns. It’s a heavy, golden brown colour, pulled away from her face. It rests just above her waist. 

 

 _Fucking perfect_. 

 

“I’m Vanessa,” she says, extending a hand. 

 _Vanessa._ It’s exotic. It’s inviting. It’s sexy. Brooke can imagine moaning it at night. Screaming it? Begging for it? 

Brooke has never begged in her life. She would beg for Vanessa. 

Hastily, she stands up and grabs Vanessa’s hand, shaking it. Is she holding on too tight? Brooke loosens her grip a bit. No, that’s too limp fish. Oh fuck are her hands sweaty? Is Vanessa squirming on the inside, revolted at Brooke already. 

Brooke lets go promptly, trying to compose herself. 

“Hi,” she croaks. Croaks? Why is she croaking, she’s not a frog. “Hello,” Brooke tries again. 

“Hi,” Vanessa replies, chuckling. 

“My name is Brooke,” Brooke says, gesturing for Vanessa to sit. 

“Yes, I know,” she says, taking a seat opposite Brooke, “I know who you are,” 

 _Of course she fucking does_. The first thing she said was Brooke’s name. 

“Yes,” Brooke says. She blinks, licks her lips. Tries to think of something to say. _Why can’t she think of something to say!?_

“Are you alright?” Vanessa asks, leaning forward. 

“I’m fine! Just fine,” Brooke says. Possibly too quickly. She clears her throat, tries to think clearly. 

“You must be the new finance manager,” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Vanessa nods, “I hope Michelle told you I was coming today?” 

“Yes she cleared me on everything,” 

Vanessa smiles again. Brooke tries not to cry. 

“Okay, wonderful. I thought I’d come in quickly, and introduce myself. You know, considering we’ll be working,” Vanessa’s voice drops a little, “ _Closely_ together,” 

_Oh yes we will_

“Yes we will,” Brooke licks her lips. Did that sound thirsty? 

Vanessa tilts her head, “Are you sure you’re okay, Miss Lynn? You seem a little…” She trails off at the end, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Brooke repeats, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so, uh,” Brooke struggles for a word. 

“So…?” Vanessa’s hand comes up and plays with a tendril of hair hanging by her face. 

“So young,” Brooke manages to say. 

Vanessa’s eyes gleam, “Not too young for you I hope?” she asks, and oh God is Vanessa _flirting_ with her. 

Brooke huffs a laugh, “Of course not,” she says. 

“Well you look rather young yourself,” Vanessa replies, leaving even further forward. Her breasts push out slightly and Brooke’s breath catches in her throat. 

“Thanks,” Brooke says. 

 _Please fuck me,_ is what she wants to say. But she can’t, for obvious reasons. So she just eyes Vanessa all over, hoping she’ll take the hint that Brooke wants to do the dirty on her desk.

Something tells her that she has, because Vanessa is smirking again, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Well, it was lovely to meet you Miss Lynn,” she stands and takes a step back, “But I should probably get going. I have a lot to look over, a few people to meet,” 

Brooke springs up from her seat, “When will I see you again?” 

She winces the moment she says it. ‘ _When will I see you again?’_ Oh for God’s sake, she sounds like she’s come right out of a shitty romcom. 

Brooke clears her throat, “Um, I mean, will I be seeing you tomorrow to discuss our next steps for the new enterprise?” 

Yes Brooke, well done. Nice save, that definitely didn’t sound like a poor attempt to cover up desperation.

“You sure will,” Vanessa winks, and Brooke just about melts. She watches as Vanessa struts out. She has to fight every being in her body to not drool at Vanessa’s ass. She fails. 

It’s round, tight. Brooke wants to squeeze it with both hands. She wants to lick it, kiss it, bite it.

“Take a picture Miss Lynn,” Vanessa says softly, and Brooke looks up quickly, “It will last longer,” 

Brooke blushes a deep red, heat filling her face. Great way to be subtle. 

“Brooke,”

Vanessa frowns, “Sorry?” 

“Miss Lynn is so formal,” Brooke tries to smile, “Please, call me Brooke,” 

Vanessa bites her lip, looking Brooke up and down. “Whatever you say,” she opens the door, “Miss Brooke,” And with that Vanessa walks out, the door closing softly behind her. 

Brooke lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and places a hand on her desk just to steady herself. 

 _Holy fuck,_ she thinks. 

 

Vanessa. Is. Gorgeous. 

 

Brooke didn’t think she’d be so stunning. She’s not her usual type at all. Brooke normally goes for the tall, serious, sombre type. Not the… Vanessa type. 

Never Vanessa. 

Yet, she can still feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She wipes her forehead with her unused hand, feeling the sweating dripping off. 

 

Slumping in her seat, Brooke can’t help but yearn for tomorrow to come. And the next day. And the day after that. And the day after _that_. For all the days she’ll be next to Vanessa. For all the moments they’ll spend together, working away. 

Brooke isn’t stupid. She knows how dangerous work relationships are. She also knows that woman as insanely attractive as Vanessa are rarely single, and if by chance they are, how widely desired they must be. There’s no chance that Vanessa is even remotely interested in Brooke. Brooke also senses that she must have a naturally flirty demeanour, a charming nature that comes naturally to her. 

But the small, teenage girl part of Brooke is buzzing. The little part of her that deals with those senseless crushes. The part that is jumping up and down at the thought of Vanessa in her office. The part that knows Vanessa was giving fuck me eyes right back to Brooke. A part, that felt the chemistry buzz between them.

 

Today is not Brooke’s day at all. 

But tomorrow? Tomorrow looks a little better. 


End file.
